


When Lady Luck Smiles

by MarchnoGirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Awkward Flirting, Bacalar - Mexico, Beach Sex, Bickering, Dirty Thoughts, Divorced Harry Potter & Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Draco and Harry speaks a bit of Spanish, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Getting Back Together, Harry Potter Epilogue Compliant, Harry has no sense of fashion, M/M, Magizoologist Draco Malfoy, Mutual Pining, POV Draco Malfoy, Past Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Snarky Harry Potter, Tanned Draco, Veterinarian Draco Malfoy, Weird Dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21909124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarchnoGirl/pseuds/MarchnoGirl
Summary: Draco Malfoy is forty-five years old and is working his arse off in Bacalar, Mexico, trying to save turtles. He isn't still thinking about the stupid crush he had when he was nineteen, and he certainly doesn't blush till spontaneous combustion at the sight of Harry Potter stepping into his lab clutching a turtle to his chest.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 36
Kudos: 478
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2019





	When Lady Luck Smiles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MalenkayaCherepakha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalenkayaCherepakha/gifts).



> Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out! 
> 
> Hello, darling MalenkayaCherepakha. When I saw you were one of my giftees I was immensely happy and couldn't wait to write something for you.
> 
> Your wishlist was amazing and full of inspiration: I tried to pack up as many things you like as possible. I hope you'll enjoy this fic! 
> 
> Huge thank yous to the _amazing_ (and really, this isn't enough praise for them) mods of this fest, my beta [milkandhoney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkandhoney) (who made a wonderful job of enduring my crisis and my crazy timing) and my fandom friends who encouraged and motivated me. 
> 
> Merry Merry Christmas to you all!🎄

All in all, Mexico wasn't that bad.

Draco had arrived in Bacalar almost three months earlier with the worst expectations.

It's not like he hadn't changed from the pureblood elitist he used to be: he was almost forty-five years old, widowed, with a near twenty-year-old son, and he’d built his career mixing Muggle and Wizarding knowledge.

Still, the idea of living six months in the middle of nowhere — in a small wooden cabin with a straw fucking bed — didn't thrill him. 

Turns out strong alcohol, sun and hot tanned men going around in their swimwear all the time can fix almost everything.

"Another drink, _amigo_?" The hot man in a tight blue swimwear asked Draco, flashing him a bright smile. "I could show you the _maravillas_ of Bacalar, you know." 

Draco took another sip of his _michelada_ — a Mexican alcoholic drink Draco was completely addicted to — mulling over the offer. He sighed, knowing it was all useless. He chatted some more minutes with the man, Hermes, walking by the shore, admiring the sunset, ending up refusing to go back home with him, wandering off with a rushed, "Sorry, I have to go to work early tomorrow.”

That was a pattern that seemed to be going on since London. Draco knew he was gay well before Astoria — but he was a former Death Eater, Lucius was still breathing down his neck to produce an heir, he still felt like he owed the world proof of his goodwill, like he owed his family the last attempt to reform the Malfoy's glory. 

Draco swallowed his pride, his sexual preferences, his very persona, and married Astoria. They'd been happy, and Scorpius was the light of Draco's life, but something never felt quite right. 

He entered his wooden cabin sighing loudly, slumping on the couch, the _micheladas_ he’d drank still spicy in his veins.

Lately some thoughts, some memories, wouldn't leave Draco's mind and when he drank a bit too much they became more and more intrusive.

Thoughts of long lost times, years ago. Draco had just turned eighteen and the repeated seventh year at Hogwarts was coming to an end.

"What does it mean for us?" 

Draco had looked into Potter's green eyes, those eyes he dreamt of since he was too young to be said. He had shaken his head, looking far away at some indefinite point of the Black Lake.

"I…" Draco started, a lump in his throat. Whatever he would say, however he would act cold and distant, he knew he had fallen in love with the git. "Lucius wrote me a letter."

He didn't turn towards Potter but he felt him huffing, annoyed, knowing. 

"He said he arranged a meeting with the Greengrass family." 

Potter came closer to Draco at that, hugged him from behind, placed a kiss on the nape of his neck. 

"I'm telling you one last time, Draco." 

_Draco, Draco, Draco._ Potter had started calling him by his first name and hearing it said by him had been new and exciting, sweet, real.

"I'm willing to… come out. To tell the World we’re together. We could, we would—"

"No," Draco had whispered, trembling in the arms of the person he knew he loved by now. "I can't." 

That hadn’t been the last time they saw each other. In the year between the end of the eighth year at Hogwarts and Draco’s marriage, he and Potter would still meet occasionally, and every single time, Draco hadn’t been able to resist him; to resist his beautiful green eyes, his contagious smile. 

Potter had been the only one for Draco. He had asked one last time, the day before the wedding, ‘Are you sure?’ and it had taken everything Draco had to say that yes, he was sure, that was what he was destined to. 

He had cried all his tears that night, married Astoria the day after, and carried on his life, _obsessively_ checking — as Tori would teasingly say — articles about Potter, about his marriage with Ginevra, his three kids and then his divorce. His promotion to Britain’s First Magical Representative of International Cooperation. 

Now, twenty-seven years later, Draco was pathetic, he knew it. But he still couldn't avoid thinking about Potter, about what they’d had. 

He tried to date again after Astoria’s death, but they always ended with a blow job, rarely a fuck, and too often a bittersweet nostalgia. Even sex as an adult didn't look as great as sex with Potter had been, back then, when the thrill of trying not to be discovered had spiked up their encounters, desks and dark alcoves their uncomfortable stages of love.

With a last glance towards the placid ocean, Draco turned off the lights of his cabin and laid down on the couch, exhaling slowly. He was there to work, after all, not to fuck with Mexican _chicos_. 

* * *

The morning after, Draco entered his lab yawning loudly. He was feeling the tiredness of the night before but the nice thing about Mexico was the relaxed attitude towards life of its inhabitants.

It had been hard for Draco at first, so used to strict mandatory shifts, but he’d quickly gotten used to the slower pace that cities living with the ocean rhythm gave. 

Moreover, it wasn't like the turtles showed much activity before ten in the morning.

Draco reached his location next to the big reproduction of the ocean he created into a cavernous room where the sample turtles were currently living, taking out his notebook and a pen. 

He sighed as he took in the amount of sand that covered the floor and every surface of his workplace; that had been another hard thing of Mexico — sand was _everywhere_.

Draco didn't know how or why but he would always find sand at his cottage, in the shower, in his hair, in his _pants_ for Salazar's sake. And his workplace was no less. It used to drive him crazy how messy it all looked. 

Now he simply shook his head and quietly muttered a cleaning spell that would last a grand total of five minutes.

" _Hola caguamas,_ " Draco said, looking at the turtles. "Another thrilling day is ahead of us. What do you have to tell me today?" 

As much as all the scientific newspapers had renominated Draco as the _turtles' whisperer_ , it obviously wasn’t true that he could speak to them. He’d just been brilliant enough to pick their habits up and find a pattern to their abnormally fast endangerment in the last couple of years.

**_Day 88_ **

_I've filled up the laboratory sea with some litter and dirt._

_The turtles who have already laid their eggs on the shore are still nearby — the younger ones have started to look around for possible emergency ways out to cleaner water._

Draco sighed, putting the pen in the middle of his open notebook. Really, it hadn't been that hard to understand that human behaviour was one of the main causes of turtles' endangerment and diseases. 

They were destroying their planet, wizards and muggles alike, and though it was a topic extremely close to Draco's heart, he still was distracted enough to doodle silliness on the edges of his notes, mostly of the word 'Potter' repeated over and over again.

Honestly, Draco was forty-five years old, and his _work_ -notebook looked like a fifteen-year-old's filled with the bane of their favourite star. 

Draco snorted when the sudden noise of a couple of hesitant feet dragging inside the lab made Draco's eyes roll up. The sign clearly said "closed" and—

"Hola, erm, amigo." 

Draco turned as he was waving his wand to balance the water temperature before leaving the turtles. 

Just to drop it immediately after.

"Potter?!"

"Malfoy?!"

They spoke together as their gazes met and held. This wasn't possible, right? It was just too much alcohol. Yes, Draco was probably still tipsy from last night and hadn’t realised.

But the Potter-like figure blinked and took a couple of steps towards him, worryingly realistic. 

"Malfoy, what the heck are you doing here?" 

Draco inhaled deeply — there was around a 100% possibility that the man in front of him really was Harry Potter, tanned, wearing a ridiculously short swimsuit, _bare-chest_ , and holding a turtle and— holding a turtle?

"Me? What are _you_ doing here? With a turtle in your hands! Don’t you know you can’t take them off the water? They’re a protected species!" 

Potter cocked an eyebrow, a knowing smirk appearing on his plump lips. “Who’s the quick-tempered, easy-to-jump to conclusions one, now?” 

Draco’s mouth quirked into a half-smile before he could realise how much it hurt to have Potter there, casually mentioning a time when they used to tease each other as a sign of love. 

“Shut up, that was almost thirty years ago!”

Something veiled Potter’s eyes and his smirk dissipated, leaving space to a blank mask. “Right, well… I found this little champ at the beach and some locals told me… Wait, you’re a magi-zoologist?!”

Draco clenched his jaw. Of course Potter didn’t know a thing about him, and why should he. Draco was only the most famous magi-zoologist of their century.

“Just let me see it, Potter.” Draco approached him and delicately took the turtle from Potter’s hands, accidentally brushing his fingers and mentally cursing himself for his rising heartbeat.

Forty-five. Draco was forty-five years old.

“It… I think something’s wrong with its legs or maybe… its sight, err,” Potter stuttered as his cheeks tinged light red. It looked incredibly cute on him and Draco cursed himself again. 

“Thanks, but I believe _I_ am the magi-zoologist here.” 

Draco carried the turtle to his table, immediately conjuring a small ocean-like environment for it. He saw Potter roll his eyes as he approached the table too, leaning his elbows on it. 

“Yeah, and the best one, as the newspapers seem to think.” The smirk appeared again on Potter’s face, and Draco felt his ears heating up. Thank Merlin for his now perpetual tanned skin since arriving in Bacalar the first time. 

“You still like to be praised, mh.” This time Potter’s tone was low, teasing again, too friendly too quickly. 

Draco’s eyes snapped to him, a mix of anger and giddiness settling in his chest. “Potter!” He said indignantly, dropping his eyes to the turtle again. “We haven’t seen each other for what—”

“Twenty-seven years.” 

Draco swallowed drily, wondering when exactly Potter grew so confident and snarky. It wasn’t exactly how they had left when they were nineteen. 

“You counted them, Potter? Doing the countdown for when you’d finally see me again?” 

Potter only shrugged. “Maybe. What do you know, Malfoy.” He smiled and pointed to the turtle, now gently rocking with the water conjured by Draco.

“Is Leo okay?” 

Draco raised an eyebrow and proceeded to do the last checks on the turtle, using his hands as the final step to check the consistency of its shell. His movements felt stiffer and awkward with Potter there, the embarrassment of having to share silence with your former nemesis, then former friend, and finally former boyfriend, heavy in the air. 

“ _Leo_?” Draco asked, scrambling for anything to say to try and cut the tension. 

“Sure, I called him Leonardo, like the ninja turtle, you know?” 

“No, I don’t know. And this is a female turtle, Potter.” Draco finally released the shell and looked directly into Potter’s perplexed face. “And she’s gravid.” 

Now Potter’s mouth opened in a comically wide ‘o’ of surprise and Draco couldn’t hold back a grin. Draco felt his lips curving into a smile against his will — Potter’s always been like this, easily amazed by the simplest of things.

“Female? With babies! I need to find another name!” 

Draco shook his head, trying to hide his amusement. “This is stupid, Potter. Thanks for bringing her here. She must have lost track of her bale, because… well, she’s blind.”

“Ah!” Potter immediately squeaked, clapping once his hands. “I knew it! I told you it was her sight and—”

“Clear that smug face, Potter. It was just plain luck, like your entire life’s always been. And I don’t know if your brilliant mind knows it, but turtles don’t have babies, they carry eggs, you git.” Draco waved a hand off, dismissing the conversation, frantically scanning in his head for all the options he had right now.

Should he ask Potter out for a drink? Talk about their lives, chat about what they’re doing here in Bacalar — and by the way, how was it even possible they found each other here and never crossed roads back in London where they lived?!

“Of course I know, Malfoy, thank you very much. _Babies_ just sounds cuter.” Potter lightly scratched his stubble, only to snap his fingers a second later, a wide grin on his lips. 

“Yes, found it! I’ll call her Lady Luck, like the goddess.”

Potter’s genuine smile made Draco’s mind up in a second. He chuckled and finally put the stasis charm on the turtles, waving his wands once towards the reproduction of ocean for the samples, and once towards Lady Luck. 

“You haven’t changed, have you, Potter?” Draco asked, searching inside of himself for the courage to ask Potter out. Just as friends, of course.

But before he could open his mouth again, Potter smiled and it was so warm, so tender that Draco’s chest ached. 

“Ah, you’d like that,” he drawled, raising an eyebrow and jutting out his chin a bit, staring into Draco’s eyes. 

“Listen, Malfoy.” Potter’s cheeks seemed to grow a deeper red and Draco’s mind reeled with anxiety. Would Potter ask him out instead? Tell him he missed Draco, that it had been good to see him again? Or worse, that it was all very nice but I’m very sorry, _I have to go?_

“Malfoy?” Potter’s fingers snapped in front of Draco’s eyes and he shook his head, trying to regain control of himself. 

“Did you hear what I said?”

Shit. Draco cleared his throat, trying to come up with something brilliant, but only blurting out a choked, “Errr, I—” 

And then startled when Potter burst out laughing, the sound of it making Draco’s knees weak. 

“Dear Lord, you haven’t changed either! I wonder what’s happening in your mind right now if you spaced out like that.” Potter smiled, a genuine smile, one that only people who’ve been intimate would share, one that made Draco’s heart swell in his chest.

“I just asked you if I can bring Lady Luck with me.” 

Now Draco’s eyebrows knitted together. “With you? Where are you staying?”

“At the PachaMama Grand Hotel! I just wanna help her!”

“Are you serious? You don’t know anything about turtles!”

Potter pouted and batted his long eyelashes, something Draco really had never been good at resisting. He rolled his eyes and mumbled, “Well, I guess you could if—”

“Great!” Potter squealed, a shit-eating smile on his face. 

“Yeah, well,” Draco cleared his throat. “You’ll need to conjure an ocean-like environment for her, feed her, check the temperature of the water and monitor her eggs situation.”

“Oh, I know! Once Rose — Hermione and Ron’s kid, did you know they have three kids now? — Well, she had a turtle! Not this species, of course, just a simple turtle and she once was carrying eggs, so—”

“Fine, fine! Damn, don’t tell me the story of your life in five minutes, Potter, breathe."

 _Actually,_ Draco thought, _it would be nice if you’d do that over dinner with me._

He shook his head to clear it. Not the right moment. 

“Here.” He enclosed Lady Luck in a ball of ocean water and levitated it towards Potter.

“Take care of her and if you ever have the slightest of doubts, contact me. In any case, I’ll come to check on her in three days.” Draco hesitated just a fraction of a second before handing Potter his card. 

Potter took it with raised eyebrows and a light snort. “Sure… Merlin, Malfoy, you’ve got a mobile? That’s new.” With careful movements, he took Lady Luck in his arms and moved to go out.

“Well then…” Potter cocked his head and a strand of curly hair fell on his glasses, catching the last rays of sunshine that enhanced the emerald of his eyes. Draco was lost in it before he knew it. 

“I’ll go. See you in three days.”

Draco swallowed, willing his voice to come out even. “Bye, Potter.” 

“Bye, Malfoy.” 

* * *

That evening at home, Draco kept replaying what had happened in his mind while cooking dinner. 

Seeing Potter again had been shocking at the very least. Draco had dreamt of the day this would happen for years, imagining all sorts of scenarios, especially after reading about his divorce with Ginevra — the two of them casually meeting in Diagon Alley, or at the platform for Hogwarts.

They would chat a bit, and Draco would ask Potter to take a coffee together, for old time’s sake. Potter would say yes — he always said yes to Draco, right? — and they’d end up flirting, teasing. 

These fantasies always ended up with Draco under the cold spray of the shower, trying to resist the urge to imagine having sex with Potter again, slicking him open with his tongue, fucking roughly into his puckered hole as he’d squirmed and begged for more. 

This time was no different — seeing him brought everything up again and it stirred a hungry curiosity in Draco. Would Potter still cry out the same things, beg the same way, look at Draco as if everything he wanted in the world was for Draco to pound his cock relentlessly into him? 

An acrid smell hit Draco’s nostrils and he hurried to turn off the heat as black smoke started to fill his kitchen. He sighed, looking grimly at his burnt dinner. 

Potter was already messing with his head and they hadn’t even had a proper conversation yet. Why was he here? How long would he be around?

With his cock still hard in his pants, Draco made a cup of hot tea and went to lay on his hammock in the veranda of his cabin. Even if it was evening, the sky was still bright and clear, and a light breeze gently dishevelled Draco’s hair, soothing his nerves. 

He sipped the tea losing himself in the waves rippling on the white crystalline sand, the milky reflection of the moon on the deep blue of the ocean and memories of emerald eyes boring into his soul. 

Draco slipped a hand into his pants and palmed his cock, hissing at the feeling. The few people on the beach were too far to see him. Draco allowed his mind to drift off again to thoughts of Potter’s bare-chest, confident and grinning in his lab, hoping three days would pass in a blink.

* * *

**_Day 89_ **

_The litter is still in the water and the bale of tortugas have already swum the furthest possible distance from it._

_But despite contamination being a clear cause of their endangerment, I’ve observed—_

Draco sighed, putting the pen down between the pages of his notebook. His head was pounding madly. He brought his fingers to his temples, massaging them.

He would never accomplish anything in this state. With a quick _Tempus_ Draco checked the hour: it was 8 pm, almost time for dinner. His _colegas_ would soon come to have dinner together and keep updated with the turtles’ situation. 

Draco waved his wand towards the door, trying to lock it, but a messy head popped from behind it, Potter’s eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Hola Malfoy,” he said, entering Draco’s laboratory. 

Draco sighed loudly, cursing under his breath. How was it even possible that the more he looked at him, the more Potter’s skin seemed to glow, fucking _glow_ with the sun reverberating on it, and the closer he got, the more Draco could smell salty ocean water. 

Not that Draco wasn’t used to ocean water by now, but he was surprised to think for the first time that it was a really good smell. Damn.

At least today Potter was dressed up, more or less. A pair of cut-off jeans and a short-sleeved floral shirt. It still made Draco’s blood pump in his veins — he probably needed Potter to be wrapped in a Weasley jumper to not find him attractive. But that wasn’t entirely true, either. Their only Christmas spent together at Hogwarts, fucking in the potions classroom, had been tangible proof of that. 

Cracking his neck to one side, Draco huffed. “Hola, Potter. You speak spanish?” 

Talking felt incredibly hard and his voice resounded in an unpleasant way when his head hurt like this. He hoped Potter wouldn’t notice.

“Nope, but I’ve been here for the last three weeks — you’d think a bit of _espa_ _ñ_ _ol_ entered my messy head. Just _una o dos palabras_!” He grinned his breath-taking grin and fidgeted with his shirt, revealing a sleepy Lady Luck in his breast-pocket. 

“Err, I wanted to ask you…” Potter reached Draco’s position and sat next to him, their thighs brushing.

“Do you think this is normal?” Potter held Lady Luck close to Draco’s eyes for inspection, but Draco couldn’t distinguish anything abnormal and his head was hurting too much to focus on something so close anyway. 

He inhaled deeply, gently — at least, he hoped — pushing away Potter’s hands. “I can’t see anything, honestly,” he exhaled, briefly closing his eyes.

When he opened them again, Potter was petting Lady Luck’s shell, regarding Draco with a worried expression. “Are you alright?”

Draco nodded, his eyelashes fluttering closed again. Delicate fingers brushed his cheek and he didn't dare open his eyes again — if this was a dream, he wanted it to last some more. 

"Don't lie to me, I remember your headaches. Still having them?" Potter's hand was now cupping Draco's cheek as his thumb slowly rubbed circles on it. 

Draco leaned on his hand, whispering, "From time to time…" 

"Open your eyes." 

Potter's tone was warm and low and Draco found himself easily following his instructions. 

When he opened his eyes, Potter was smiling and both his hands were now cupping Draco’s face, his fingers delicately massaging his temples.

"Weird thing destiny, huh."

Draco hummed, lost in Potter’s touch. "What do you mean?"

"We haven't met in twenty-six years and we live in the same city, our kids go to the same school. Instead, we meet where, in Bacalar?" 

They snorted together, eyes locked. Draco held his breath before slowly replying. "Maybe Lady Luck has something in store for us after all. Speaking of which… what's wrong with her?" 

Potter seemed to snap out of the moment at the mention of the turtle and his cheeks quickly tinged a blotched red. 

"Oh right, yes, err… look at her shell, I think… is it normal? There’s this dot here?" 

Draco's nose scrunched up and he looked where Potter's finger was pointing on the shell. 

“Of course it's normal, Potter, it's a shell. Shells don’t have regular patterns?” 

Potter scratched the back of his neck and his blush deepened, reaching his neck and ears. 

"Right, I thought so, I just wanted to check." 

He quickly stood up, taking Lady Luck with him. "Make sure to take something for your headache! I’d better go now. Have a good night!"

"Thanks. You too," Draco said as he watched Potter go, turning one last time to show a shy smile for Draco before closing the door behind him. 

The whole situation was starting to be almost ridiculous and still, Draco's headache was already gone and he could feel a hot happiness sweeping through him. 

Being able to see Potter again, smell his new ocean skin, see the new grey strands of hair on his old familiar messy head, his everlasting emerald eyes with a few wrinkles at the sides. 

Shaking his head, Draco cleaned the lab up again and closed it to wait for his _colegas_ and go out to dinner. Whatever was happening with Potter was already messing with him too much.

* * *

**_Day 90_ **

_Recap:_

_— with litter around, turtles try to escape;_

_— abrupt changes to the water temperature bring on increased illnesses;_

_— the more eggs laid on the shores, the more females fall behind while the males look for safer waters;_

_— Potter is fucking stuck in my head and I can't work like this._

Really, _honestly_ , Draco was forty-five years old — he couldn't repeat it to himself enough. He could still picture Tori, drinking her favourite diet coke on the sofa of their old house, looking affectionately at him. 

“You’re obsessing over Potter again.”

It was her favourite motto and it was true, every single time. 

This time was no less. 

Just when Draco was huffing at the thought that he wouldn’t have to see Potter for another two days, he saw Potter walk through the door of his lab.

An involuntary grin stretched Draco’s lips and he leaned on the table of his lab, cocking his hips. “Potter, do I see a pattern here?”

Potter immediately reached him, fishing Lady Luck out of his breast-pocket again and laying her on the table. "What can I say, I can't resist you." He threw a smirk at Draco and stuck out his tongue. 

Draco sighed and waved a hand towards Lady Luck. " _Dios mío_ , _qué_ _tonto_. What is it now?" 

The delicious blush appeared again on Potter’s cheeks and his voice wavered slightly. "See, I'm a bit worried, because…" Potter cleared his throat, tapped his fingers on the table. "She seems… slow. I mean. Slower than usual…" 

Draco stared hard into Potter's face, searching for his eyes that were trained on Lady Luck. "Are you kidding me, Potter? Lady Luck _es una tortuga_ , turtles are slow! She’s carrying eggs, what do you expect?" 

It became routine. Every morning Draco would wake up, have a shower, breakfast and go to his lab, a thrill exciting him, the possibility of seeing Potter again.

And regular as clockwork, Potter would show up every day, Lady Luck in tow, in various degrees of dress. 

On Thursday, he showed up in hideous flip flops and a white — white! — swimsuit, batting his eyelashes, claiming he heard Lady Luck _whining_ and — is it normal, Malfoy? I think she missed you.

On Friday, Potter put to shame everything that could be called a ‘sense of fashion,’ appearing in a pink shirt with flamingos printed on it and light green shorts. That time Potter insisted he was completely sure something was wrong with Lady Luck. Perhaps it was her digestive system? Or her leg? Her eyes or — Draco sighed, trying to explain for the umpteenth time that nothing was wrong with Lady Luck.

On Saturday, Draco didn’t even let Potter speak first when he entered in a lavender sundress. “What the heck are you wearing, Potter? And don’t even start again, Lady Luck is perfectly healthy!” 

“Do you like it? A _vendedore ambulante_ sold it to me. He told me lavender would compliment my tanned skin. I agree.” Potter made a half pirouette, making the skirt turn and lift, showing his muscled thighs just enough to make Draco salivate. 

“You’re an idiot. Either that or you went crazy aging,” he choked out, reminding himself he shouldn’t find Potter in a lavender sundress insanely hot. 

“I just don’t care what people think about me, Malfoy.” 

Potter took a couple of steps towards Draco, Lady Luck safe in his hands. “I know she’s fine! But guess what,” he snorted as if he couldn’t believe he was actually going to finish that sentence. “— she told me she wanted to see you.”

“She _told_ you,” Draco mused, his heart racing in his chest. 

“Sure, we got to know each other during these days and we can communicate now. Kinda like Parseltongue, but it’s… _tortugatongue_.” Potter was barely refraining from bursting out laughing, an ear-to-ear grin plastered on his face.

Draco chuckled, an all too familiar warmth pooling in his stomach, a warmth that spoke of Potter and love. “So, Lady Luck spoke tortugatongue to you and told you she wanted to see me. How nice. Tell her… I missed her too.” 

Potter’s eyes sparkled and one side of his lips quirked up as his cheeks tinged red. "I was thinking… you seem to spend all your time closed in your lab. Why don't we go have a drink together tonight?"

At Draco's amused expression, Potter quickly added, "For Lady Luck, of course."

"For your information Potter, I don't spend all my time here. But I guess… for Lady Luck, we could arrange that." 

* * *

It never rained in Bacalar. Since Draco had arrived, the sun hadn’t stopped shining. But he would quickly learn nothing stays the same forever.

Potter arrived to pick him up at 10 pm. They met in front of Draco's lab because it was closer to the cafe they chose. 

As they chatted about Potter's hideous choice of clothing — a lime green t-shirt with 'Lady Luck' written in purple block letters — they reached the cafe, which consisted in an open counter on the beach with large speakers for the music and no closing hour. 

"I made it myself, you know Malfoy. You should feel honoured."

"I do, I do. I'm also both relieved and worried that you sewed your own embarrassing t-shirt." 

They laughed, drank, danced to the moon, singing off-pitch notes but synced hearts.

Draco held Potter by his waist, led him on unsteady feet, wavering with alcohol and emotion. Potter's smell, the way he giggled and stomped on Draco's feet with every step, made Draco ache with all the possibilities he turned down when they were nineteen, all the memories flooding back to him. 

When the moon was starting to fall down and make space for the rising sun, Potter led Draco towards the shores, taking off his tremendous leather sandals and dipping his feet into the cold water, hissing at the feeling.

He turned his torso, looking around them. "It's just us and the moon. Come here! And take your shoes off."

Draco took a deep breath, deeply inhaling the ocean smell, closing his eyes and letting the gentle lap of the waves guide him to Potter. 

"How commanding, Potter." 

In a couple of steps, Draco reached him and took off his shoes too, advancing enough to be ankle-deep in the ocean. 

Potter turned, grasped Draco's hand and lightly squeezed it. "Are we still on a surname basis?" 

Draco squeezed his hand back, pulling him closer. "If I recall correctly, it was a turn-on for you, _Potter._ " 

"You want me to be turned on?" 

They were now standing face to face, so close Draco could feel Harry's breath ghosting on his lips, rendering him unable to think properly.

"I… think we drank too much," Draco said in a desperate attempt to be the voice of reason.

But Harry smirked and his voice came out husky when he said, "I want this, Draco. I've dreamt of you for years, I've wanted you since the first moment I saw you again."

Draco was still holding his breath since hearing Harry call him _Draco_ again — the way he rolled the ‘r’ in a kind of spanish accent, the way his warm tone pronounced it, like all those years ago that suddenly seemed not that far away — when he felt Harry's hands on his belt-loops, his lips mouthing at Draco's neck. 

Releasing his breath, Draco shook his head and whispered, "I thought it was Lady Luck that—"

Hot lips finally collided with Draco's, a tongue slowly dragging on his bottom lip. Draco felt already intoxicated by the man holding him; he opened his mouth and his heart to Harry without any other doubt. 

Harry pulled back just a fraction, his lips still brushing Draco's — _shut up,_ he hissed, and — _c'mere_ , as he clamped tight fingers on Draco's hips.

Draco finally gave in, abandoning himself in the heat of Harry’s mouth, so familiar but at the same time so different, new. He dipped his hands in his messy hair, tilting his head back to lick and graze his teeth on Harry’s neck. 

Harry reacted as he always had at that, shivering in Draco’s arms and moaning loudly, his hips bucking against Draco’s hard bulge. Draco’s hand flew to Harry’s arse, grabbing it, losing all semblance of composure. 

“I want you—” he rasped, lifting Harry’s shirt, brushing his fingers to his ribs, feeling them expand with Harry’s ragged breathing, his chest, nipples. “I want you right now, Harry.” 

Harry backed a couple of steps, regarding him with a wild expression — because Draco used his first name or because he suddenly sobered, Draco didn’t know for sure — but he hoped it wasn’t the latter. Luckily, after a moment, Harry’s mouth quirked, wicked as he said, “Catch me, then.”

Harry turned and started running in the opposite direction, until with a mad jump he dove into the black ocean, laughing and calling for Draco. “I’m waiting!” 

Draco shook his head, repeated to himself he was _forty-five years old_ , and decided that it was a perfect age to have fun, to finally let himself fall in love again. He quickly undressed and dove in too, letting out a yelp at the freezing water but smirking as soon as a warming charm hit him — Harry was just a couple of feet from him, a crooked smile on his bright face. 

“I’m here,” Draco said, feeling stupid at the statement but still afraid of letting himself believe this was really happening. 

A suspicious wave pushed him into Harry’s chest and his arms quickly wrapped around Draco’s waist, holding him in place. Harry’s lips sucked Draco’s earlobe making him squirm and hard again, making his arousal spike. He kissed Harry, sliding a hand underwater, brushing it down Harry’s chest, finally grasping his cock, moaning into their kiss, feeling Harry thrust into his fist.

The water made his movements rougher and Draco was looking for reasons to get out of the ocean to have what was sure to be more comfortable sex, when a couple of drops hit Draco’s head and he huffed, annoyed.

“Stop playing with the ocean water, Harry, you’re not Triton!” 

Harry whined at the loss of Draco’s grip on his cock and pushed it against his thigh, voice amused. “It’s not me! I thought it was you, actually. C’mon Draco, I don’t want to wait any—”

A violent rainfall started plunging a second later and they rushed to swim out of the water, collecting their clothes and finding shelter under a big palm tree, laughing like teenagers who’d pulled off a prank.

Draco was about to cast a drying charm and redress, angrily muttering under his breath. “ _Dios mío,_ I can’t believe this _mala suerte_! _El_ d _estino_ made us _reencontrarnos_ and then this—”

Harry snorted, taking Draco’s hands in his, stopping him from redressing and cast a warming charm around the two of them. He conjured a blanket, slowly dragging Draco down onto it with him. 

“May I ask what the hell you’re saying?” Harry’s tone was light and playful and Draco let himself relax again, staring distractedly at the few raindrops trailing down Harry’s chest, entangling in his hairs, gathering on his nipple. 

Draco licked his lips and his cock jolted, hard once again. “This night is a disaster! Destiny made us meet again, but then look at this — in the ocean I was _so_ uncomfortable and then, then, the rain! It _never_ rains here! And—” 

“I can’t believe you’re still such a prat! Who cares? This isn’t a disaster, I’m having fun! And… the tension’s just gotten to its best, don’t you think? If you don’t fuck me right now I’m afraid I’m gonna have to do it myself.” 

Draco’s mouth hung open as Harry laid on the blanket, eyes locked with Draco’s, spreading his legs apart for him to see. Harry murmured a lube spell and his fingers were coated with a shiny liquid. Without any further ado, he raised a finger to circle his rim, his breathing loud even in the stormy rain around them. 

It was arousing even if not quite what Draco wanted. He took Harry’s wrist just as he was a knuckle in and pushed away his hand.

“Hey! I was—”

“Let me,” Draco groaned as he lubed his own hand and pushed a finger in, leaning his body down, tilting his head towards Harry’s and crashing their lips together. As soon as he was in, Harry’s muscles tightened around his finger, warm and inviting and Draco couldn’t think anymore.

He pulled almost all the way out and thrust in again with two fingers, Harry writhing under him, moaning a string of ‘yes, yes, hurry up!’

With the last strands of sanity left in Draco, he inhaled deeply and looked around themselves, frowning slightly.

Harry looked up at him and breathed, “What’s wrong? Are you still okay with it?”

Draco felt himself blush at the question, as if his leaking cock against Harry’s thigh wasn’t a good indication of how much he was okay with it. He sighed and rolled his fingers inside of Harry, brushing his sweet spot and marvelling at the way Harry’s eyelashes fluttered half-closed, the way his teeth sank into his bottom lip.

“Nothing like that, I just… we’re still wet and the sand is starting to—” he shifted uncomfortably his knees already bruised by the sand gathered under them, scrunching up his nose.

Harry laughed, lifting his arse as if to fuck himself on Draco’s fingers. “Always so posh,” he muttered, almost breathless. “There.”

He waved his hand and something that looked like a protective charm wrapped their bodies, shielding them from being hurt by external objects. "Better?"

Draco looked into Harry's eyes, a mix of pride and envy at how easy magic came to Harry in every situation. He smirked and pulled his fingers all the way out Harry's arse. 

"Not yet," he murmured, lubing his own cock, tightening his muscles at the blissful feeling of something finally tugging at it. He lined up with Harry's rim, lightly pushing the tip of his cock to it. 

Harry clasped his feet on Draco's back and pulled him towards his chest, pupils blown wide. "What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation?!" He thrust toward Draco's cock, his hole fluttering around it, and Draco closed his eyes, almost succumbing to the need to thrust in once and for all.

"Well, that wouldn't be that bad—" he said with a trembling voice.

 _This_. Bantering, bickering and being playful during such an intimate moment was something Draco had missed his entire adult life, something he knew he could have only with Harry. 

"Idiot," Harry retorted and brought a hand to their joined groins, grasping Draco's cock and pushing it in til the head slipped completely in and they both groaned.

"Fuck, _yes._ " Draco thrust in deeper as Harry clutched his shoulders and rolled his hips, taking his entire length. 

Harry shivered and Draco pulled almost all the way out, lingering with only the head of his cock into Harry, and then thrust in all the way with one smooth press.

The movement made them both tremble and tip over the edge — as the rain stopped raging, the only sound on the beach was that of their bodies slinging together, their mingled groans and cries, and with a last thrust Draco came deep into Harry, memories from their past sweetening the moment.

Harry followed him just seconds later, pumping hard and fast with his hand on his cock, smearing their stomachs with come. 

Draco looked into his eyes and they smiled, their cheeks flushed. He pushed back and rolled next to Harry — the night was finally quiet, their panting slowly evening out.

"I missed you," Draco whispered, staring at the brightening sky, afraid of ruining the moment.

Harry turned to him, placed a kiss on his neck. "Me too," he said. "Shall we go, er, somewhere we don't risk other people seeing us?" 

Draco snorted, nodding and getting ready to go back to his cottage. In the heat of the moment, he had almost forgotten they were still at the beach and he couldn't wait to get more and more of Harry, finally.

* * *

From that day on Draco learned Harry was there on vacation, forced by Hermione but now relieved he did it. Working as First Magical Representative of International Cooperation could be stressful and after divorcing Ginny he was feeling more and more burned out.

They started to see each other every day — “As if you weren’t coming here every day anyway” “Hey, it wasn’t for me, Lady Luck needed your assistance” — taking the time to rediscover each other, their new lives, what changed in them, what remained the same. 

Lady Luck quickly recuperated, learning to deal with the world without her sight and preparing to deliver her eggs. After weeks of sex, micheladas, and weird choices of clothing, Draco announced to Harry that they needed to free her again.

“But won’t it hurt her? She’s used to us now!” Harry was clutching Lady Luck to his chest so hard Draco really feared he’d crushed her shell. 

“First of all, release her, Harry, or you’ll hurt her. And… I’m sorry, but she really needs to be freed. She’ll deliver her eggs in a matter of days and it’s best for her and her babies if they’re back in the ocean in time.” 

Harry released his grip on the turtle sighing, defeated and pouting. They were in Draco’s lab and he was running the last tests on Lady Luck to check everything was still fine. 

Draco glanced outside — the sun was slowly falling behind the sea as the ocean colour started morphing into a deep blue with orange strikes. “C’mon, let’s get her outside,” he said, smiling to Harry and his pouting face. He looked adorable and Draco found himself thinking he was the luckiest man on Earth to get to see Harry like this again every day, for him, with him.

Harry hummed walking towards the door, stretching a hand behind him for Draco to hold. Draco made a show of huffing and taking it — “What a sap, Potty” — only to feel his face muscles aching for how much he was smiling a second later.

They walked towards the shore with a light breeze ruffling their hair, the sun almost rose, resting on the horizon line with the water. 

Harry squeezed Draco’s hand, watching in front of them. “So…” He kneeled, laying Lady Luck on the sand. He waved a hand to her and muttered, “Bye, Lady Luck.” 

Draco kneeled next to him. “No tortugatongue today?” 

Harry chuckled, brushing a hand over his teary eyes. “For your information, that _was_ tortugatongue. And no, I’m not crying. Sand just got into my eyes.” He looked up into Draco’s eyes, a trembling smile on his face. “I’ve never been good with goodbyes. I don’t like them.” 

Draco took a deep breath, remembering the last time Harry had said that to him all those years ago, kissing each other for what they were sure was the last time. Harry had been angry at him for forcing him to say goodbye once again. 

“Sometimes goodbyes aren’t bad,” he said back to him, pointing to the ocean. “Look.” 

They turned their faces to the horizon to see a huge bale of turtles floating a few meters from them, waiting for Lady Luck, who was slowly swimming towards them. The rose orange light of the sun reflected on their shells and Draco felt like he was looking at a portrait.

“She’s going back home, at last,” Draco whispered, a cheesy smile tugging at his lips.

Harry turned to him, matching Draco’s smile. “What about us? Are we going back home… together?” 

Draco’s smile widened. He had never been so sure of anything in his life. 

* * *

Years later, when Scorpius, Albus or even Ron and Hermione would ask how was it possible they’d found each other in Mexico during funny — if verging on embarrassing — family dinners, Draco would still give the same answer.

He blamed it on two things: the rain — _I’m telling you, it never rains in Bacalar!_ — and Lady Luck smiling at him for the first time in years. 

**Author's Note:**

>  **Disclaimer** : All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. 
> 
> Thank you for reading my story!! I hope you enjoyed it ~ kudos and comments are highly appreciated.❤️ You can find me on my Tumblr, [@drarryruinedme7](https://drarryruinedme7.tumblr.com/)!


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